


they say you and me are tautology

by owlvsdove



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, making fun of the nerd babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:57:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlvsdove/pseuds/owlvsdove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You can’t tie a tie?”<br/><i>“It’s not a big deal.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	they say you and me are tautology

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by Sarah (almostfamousgrl). Title from "What Death Leaves Behind" by Los Campesinos!.
> 
> Figured now was an appropriate time to post fluff because seriously that last episode was just RUDE. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

She’d recognize that knock anywhere.

One rap, a pause, and then three short ones in succession. Upbeat and impatient, like him. She calls for him to enter.

Fitz is like clockwork. His chosen tie is slung over his shoulders, passive, waiting for her.

“Morning, Jems,” he says, setting his tea mug on her bedside table.

“Morning,” she murmurs, stepping close to take hold of the two ends of linen. He doesn’t have to ask her to tie it for him; she’s been doing it for ages. She can’t remember how it started – she must have offered some time in their academy days when he started to dress like his idea of what an adult was. Around the same time she started to dress like what her idea of what an adult was.

She fusses with the fabric. She won’t admit it, but she likes to draw this out as long as possible. She doesn’t want to identify too specifically why she likes doing it so much – the proximity, the tenderness, the ability to provide something for him. But she quite likes doing it.

As she fiddles with the tie, he starts to speak. He’s going on about the project they were working on late the night before, his mind spinning theory into model into reality, creating in his own exclusive way. It amazes her, the way he could pick up running again, thoughts a mile a minute. Sometimes, wistfully, Jemma wonders if his attention is ever split, or if he actually is what she strives to be – singly focused on the task at hand. No distractions.

She’s smiling softly now, but she knows he’ll attribute it absently to his plans rather than his ineffable Fitz-ness.

Suddenly he stops talking. Her eyes flicker up to his in question and then back down to the knot she’s still working on.

Apparently he’d asked a question. “Are you even listening, Jemma?”

Her hands still. _No_. “Yes.” But she’s always been rubbish at lying, and the last few months have made that even more apparent.

She’s so lucky that no one has ever asked her the question. Everyone always assumes, and she can fall back on that predictability. It’s not a lie if she says they aren’t together, because they aren’t. Mercifully, no one has ever asked her opinion on the matter, if there was an outcome of their relationship she preferred. She wouldn’t be able to hide the pleasure of her daydreams, or her chagrin at the improbability of it all.

He gives her a look that says _I know you’re lying_.

“Sorry,” she says. He repeats the question without a second thought, but before she can answer there’s someone at the door.

And that someone is a gaping, spluttering Skye.

“Morning,” Jemma says pleasantly, unthinkingly.

“Do you do this _every morning_?” She gapes.

“Yes,” Fitz says defensively, unable to turn around all the way because Jemma still had him around the neck.

Skye lets out a high-pitched squeal that startles Jemma’s hands away from her task. She’s basically done away. She stuffs her hands in her pockets, feeling oddly nervous.

“Do you not know how to tie a tie?” Skye asks.

Fitz turns all the way around now. “No,” he says, even more defensive.

Skye clutches her chest and shrieks again.

Both Fitz and Simmons are staring at her in horror now. Next time, Fitz makes a mental note to close the door.

“What happened?” They hear Ward ask urgently from the hallway. Expecting to find a horrible catastrophe, he jumps from Skye’s wild eyes to Fitz and Simmons, standing there a bit awkwardly, doing absolutely nothing to provoke that kind of sound.

Ward sighs, and wordlessly turns to Skye to explain herself.

“Guys, show Ward, do it again,” Skye says excitedly, grabbing Ward’s arm to manhandle him into turning to face them fully again.

“I’m not going to do it again; it’s already done,” Jemma says, self-conscious now.

“EverymorningSimmonstiesFitz’stieforhim,” is what spews from Skye’s lips.

Ward’s face crinkles in incomprehension. He takes a moment to process this and wheels around to raise an eyebrow at Fitz. “You can’t tie a tie?”

“ _It’s not a big deal_ ,” Fitz hisses.

“This has been a fun, early morning conversation between colleagues, but if you’ll excuse us, we have work to do,” Jemma says haughtily, resisting the urge to grab Fitz by said tie and leading him out of the room that way. Instead, she trusts he will follow.

 

 

 

 

 

Simmons loves Agent Coulson. He is always professional, but still manages to be warm and kind and funny without crossing any lines.

Except for today.

She’s alone in the lab right now, analyzing chemical compounds found at a Centipede lab in Bern. Fitz is off helping Ward with a mechanical failure with some of the truck’s mobile sensors.

“Let me know as soon as you get the results,” Coulson says.

She responds with a _yes, sir_ and thinks that’s the end of it.

“And Simmons?”

“Yes?”

“Let Fitz know that if he needs someone to teach him how to tie a tie, I’m available.”

Jemma stills her scientific machinations and purses her lips. “Skye,” she says simply.

“I think she came directly from your room to my office.” There’s a smile on his lips, in his eyes. But this is dangerous territory to get into with your boss.

“I honestly don’t know why she thought you’d be interested, sir,” she responds primly, hoping she’s hiding her thorough embarrassment.

“We gossip, occasionally.”

Jemma shoves the image of Skye and Coulson dressed as little old ladies gabbing over high tea out of her mind.

“I can assure you there was nothing untoward happening; I was just helping—”

“Of course, Jemma,” he says, instantly putting her at ease like he was known to do. He pauses for a moment. “But even if there was – you should remember to shut the bunk door.”

And instantly she is made uneasy, as he is also known to do. This time she cannot hide her slack-jawed horror.

And doesn’t AC look _smug_.

“Get back to those tests,” he says.

She does.

 

 

 

 

 

“Fitz, Simmons, come in here for a second,” Ward beckons to them from the loading bay. He is in the midst of another training session with Skye.

They approach hesitantly. Usually when Ward calls them out of the lab it’s either for a scolding or a long-winded lecture about basic safety training. And since neither of them had done anything to deserve a scolding (they think, anyway), it looks to be another episode of Grant Ward’s Fun Facts about Scary Situations.

“Now, I’m showing Skye how to escape from different bindings, and I think it would do both of you some good to pay attention, in the event that you are captured.” He is very thinly veiling his big brother voice with his patient SO voice.

Ward takes them through the steps on how to break zip ties, unknot rope, even how to use a ball and chain to their advantage.

Then the other shoe drops.

“Skye, come here, I need a volunteer,” Ward says, and with a too-innocent look, Skye dutifully steps up. Ward slings a rope around her neck, and it takes both Jemma and Fitz two seconds to realize that Ward is tying a Windsor knot around her neck; and it takes Fitz another one to whirl around and return to the lab in a huff.

Ward breaks into a smile and Skye into cackles. Jemma gives them both a withering look and follows her partner back into the lab.

 

 

 

 

 

They are being briefed on a new phenomenon when the topic comes up again. They had been woken up early, so each of them had thrown on clothes and shuffled out of bed. It’s May, of all people, this time.

“No tie today, Fitz?” she asks quietly. Coulson smirks, and Ward and Skye turn to him with twin shit-eating grins.

All of the pleasantness drops out of Fitz’s face. Jemma fingers a lock of hair anxiously. But he isn’t going to pick a fight with May.

“Where’s the console controller?” Coulson asks, trying to refocus the group.

“I was making mods to it last night; it’s in the lab,” Fitz says. Before Coulson can reprimand him, Jemma pops out of her seat.

“I’ll get it!” She says, faux-cheerily. Fitz can see her growing weary of all the comments about their little arrangement.

His eyes follow her out of the room, and when he’s sure she is out of earshot, he snaps back to them, preparing for a ribbing. “Can we not just drop this whole thing?” he moans.

“It’s too adorable not to mock you mercilessly about it!” Skye argues.

“Also a little sad and pathetic,” Ward says, and Fitz stifles his comment of _you are the big brother I never wanted_.

“I don’t think he should ever learn,” Skye says defiantly.

Now he’s fed-up. “Listen, let’s end this once and for all: _I do know how to tie a tie_ , alright? I am a grown man!” he bursts.

“Then why do you let Simmons do it for you?” Skye asks, clearly hoping for a confession of undying love.

“Because it never came up! She just offered one day, so I let her. Plus I like her to; she makes sure it matches my sweaters and that it’s tied straight. Is that such a crime?!” His tone is harsh and strained. He’s trying not to incriminate himself while admitting to a lie, which was a lot of verbal gymnastics for a guy who mostly stuck to techspeak and scientific jargon.

“No, it’s not,” Coulson says agreeably, hinting towards a smile. “Let’s all put the topic of Fitzsimmons’ sartorial codependency to rest.”

Skye and Ward nod somewhat dejectedly, while May somehow gives silent confirmation that she didn’t remotely care and that it wouldn’t come up again.

“Thank you,” Fitz says.

“Found it!” Jemma says brightly from the doorway, holding the controller in her hand as she bounds up the last few steps.

“Thank you,” Coulson replies as she crosses the room to hand it over. He turns to Fitz. “This isn’t going to explode, is it?”

“No, of course not,” Fitz fumes. “All of my modifications are perfectly safe!” Then he changes his mind. “Actually, you better let me.”

Jemma returns to her seat as Fitz gets up to help Coulson. Everyone’s attentions are focused on potential mechanical malfunction, so she allows herself a small smile. Maybe she had heard Fitz talking and lingered in the doorway to listen to his confession. Maybe she doesn’t mind so much that he lied. _That_ is a secret she could keep. 

 

 


End file.
